


I fell in love with my best friend (He fell in love with you instead)

by OnyxFang99



Series: I fell in love with my best friend (He fell in love with you instead) [1]
Category: Palaye Royale (Band)
Genre: Angst, Flowers, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 16:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18347090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxFang99/pseuds/OnyxFang99
Summary: Daffodils. Why did it have to be daffodils-Sebastian realises his feelings for Daniel are unrequited when he starts coughing up yellow petals.





	I fell in love with my best friend (He fell in love with you instead)

**Author's Note:**

> This idea just came to me and I just couldn't not write it. I've always wanted to write a Hanahaki disease fic.

Yellow.

 

It used to be such a happy colour.

 

It used to be the sun shining high in the sky on a clear day. Sand warming your feet on a hot summer holiday. Sunflowers, dandelions…

 

...daffodils.

 

Now he can barely look at the colour without tearing up and losing the ability to breathe.

 

He’s staring down at the yellow blossom he coughed up earlier. As his cheeks become wet he promises to himself that he won’t let anyone know.

 

Not yet anyway.

 

“Sebastian, you feeling better?” Remington calls worriedly from outside the bunk.

 

The brunet quickly stuffs the flower underneath his pillow - he’s gonna have to clean that out soon - and wipes his eyes.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

But he’s lying. 

 

Just like he’s dying.

 

* * *

 

 

It started small. Most things do. No coffee addict would drink fifteen cups a day. No cancer patient would start coughing up blood as soon as they are infected. No, it started small.

 

It started with a single, tiny, otherwise innocent petal. A yellow daffodil petal. Normally it would’ve been easy for him to dismiss but the fact that he’d just coughed it up couldn’t be ignored. This innocent little petal brought with it the most horrifying implications.

 

It means his love is unrequited.

 

It means that Daniel doesn’t love him in the same way.

 

It means he’s gonna die.

 

* * *

Hanahaki is what it’s called. He didn’t actually know that much about it, I guess that’s what he gets for not paying attention in high school biology. He spends his time researching it on his phone, hiding away in his bunk by claiming a headache.

 

His brothers are worried. Sebastian knows this. He wants to tell them but doing so would make it feel real - more real than it already is.

 

He can’t bring himself to tell them that their older brother probably won’t live to see the new year.

 

* * *

He has a few close calls. The worst being an incident after a show.

 

Sebastian is drinking. It seems to take an edge off the pain. He doesn’t know what he’s drinking, just that it’s making him dizzy.

 

Or maybe it’s something else that’s doing that.

 

The action is so sudden that he starts gasping. He tried to sit down on the couch but instead ended up on the ground instead.

 

“Sebastian, you ‘right?” Remington slurs from his seat at the table.

 

“Fine,” he opens his hand hoping to see nothing but to his horror, it’s not empty.

 

Remington stumbles over to him and he scrunches his palm shut to hide the offending petals.

 

* * *

It’s a few days later that he starts hacking up real blooms.

 

He’s in the shower when it happens. He chokes on water before suddenly coughing up a solid object.

 

Laying in his hands is a beautifully terrifying daffodil head.

 

_ Fuck. _

 

* * *

He can’t bear to face Daniel. Every time he sees him roaming a venue or passes him on the bus he shies away, ducking his head. Sebastian hibernates in his bunk. Anytime he comes face to face with him the flowers violently push up his throat, threatening to spill out alongside his feelings.

 

While on stage the bassist is harder to avoid - no not avoid. He’s not avoiding Daniel. That would mean he hates him - stay away from. But he tries his best, trying to focus on his guitar and the crowd.

 

Trying to ignore the love of his life and death, all together.

 

“Hey, Sebastian… Can we talk?”

 

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

 

He shoves petals and blooms under his pillow - it’s getting pretty full under there, he’s gonna have to get rid of those properly at some point - and pulls aside the curtain to view the other man better.

 

“Yeah sure,” he tries to be nonchalant as if nothing’s wrong.

 

“Have you been avoiding me?” Daniel looks hurt.

 

Sebastian lowers his gaze, finding the fabric of his blankets very interesting at the moment, “no…” he says, a guilty tone creeping into his words.

 

He can almost hear Daniel rolling his eyes in his next sentence, “look please just tell what I did wrong. You don’t have to forgive me for whatever I did, but I would kinda like to know. I might be able to fix it.

 

_ You did nothing wrong. It’s me who did the wrong thing. Falling in love with someone who doesn’t love them back. _

 

“It’s nothing really-” is all he manages to get through before a coughing fit overwhelms him.

 

Daniel’s tentative expression turns panicked in a beat, “Sebastian!”

 

Sebastian leaps forward out of his bunk and stumbled into the bathroom just in time to expel the contents of his stomach mixed with blood and flowers.

 

“Fuck,” he groans.

 

“Bro, are you okay in there?” It’s Emerson knocking on the door.

 

“Absolutely fine-” he cuts himself off as more flowers push up his throat.

 

“No you’re not,” Emerson deadpans.

 

“Ugh. I don’t know. I might have the flu or something. Whatever,” he punctuates his statement by spitting bile into the toilet.

 

He tries to ignore the blood.

 

Keyword: tries.

 

* * *

Sebastian feels guilty about the cancelled shows.

 

Emerson told Remington and the others - including Daniel - about him having the ‘flu’. He finds himself barely able to make it out of his bunk leading him to spend a long time unable to think about anything else than his impending doom - he mostly thinks about what he’s going to tell Emerson, and Remington, and…

 

...Daniel.

 

God, just thinking of him ruffled the flowers. He, thankfully, hasn’t thrown up again, but he’s coughed a lot, bordering on choking. Every time he does, there’s more blood in the mix.

 

What happens if - when - he finally succumbs to his illness and chokes on the cute little yellow flowers, he doesn’t want to think about. 

 

Daffodils. Why did it have to be daffodils?

 

To think that such beautiful flowers would become the death of him (literally).

 

He hates it.

 

* * *

He has a hand full of petals when Remington shoves the curtain open.

 

“Hey, I brought you some-” his eyes widen when they catch on Sebastian's hand and the petals lying in his open palm, “what are those?”

 

“Nothing! Nothing!” He hisses back, becoming defensive and crushing the petals under his fingers.

 

“It isn’t the flu, is it?” The younger brother takes Sebastian's ashamed look as an answer, “you have hanahaki, don’t you?”

 

Sebastian has no words. All that leaves his mouth is a small whimper.

 

“Hey move over a little,” Remington squishes into the bunk, cuddling up to his older brother. He sighs before asking, “Who?”

 

Sebastian instantly knows what he’s asking. He hesitates, unable to spit out the name. “Daniel,” he whispers.

 

“Shit.”

 

They say you’re supposed to feel better after talking to someone about your feelings.

 

As he cries into Rem’s shoulder, Sebastian just feels worse.

 

* * *

As Sebastian’s condition worsens, Remington is given the go-ahead to tell Emerson and  _ only  _ Emerson. The man swears on his life not to tell unless necessary.

 

He doesn’t have it in him to tell Daniel. How are you supposed to tell your best friend that they’re the reason you’re dying?

 

The answer: you don’t.

 

Even if Daniel doesn’t like him back, they’re still friends. He doesn’t want to hurt him like that.

 

He forgets that it’s gonna hurt him either way.

 

* * *

It’s one afternoon when things come to a head. 

 

At least he thinks it’s afternoon. It’s been hard to tell recently.

 

The others have been informed of his condition due to heavy encouragement from Emerson - who thankfully left out Daniel’s involvement. 

 

He’s cooped up in bed, the band hurrying to get home to their mom so he can say goodbye. 

 

One last goodbye to the woman who raised him for nearly 27 years.

 

He feels the tickling in his throat but instead of his hands being filled with daffodils, they’re soaked exclusively with blood. So much blood. As he tries to cough again only to find the flowers stuck in his throat, cutting off air to his lungs. 

 

_ No. No no no no no! _

 

“Dan…” he weakly calls out, “c-can’t breathe.”

 

“Sebastian?” Daniel looks up from his phone, horror appearing on his face at the sight, “Sebastian!”

 

Sebastian tumbles out of his bunk, scratching at his airways, begging for relief.

 

Daniel is instantly kneeling beside him, laying him down so his head is resting on the bassist's lap.

He’s choking up more blood and the world is blurring before his eyes. He distantly hears footsteps sprinting to the commotion.

 

“Sebby, I need you to stay with me,” Daniel’s voice sounds as if underwater. His jeans are stained with red.

 

“Please... Sebastian…”

 

“Dan- Daniel,” he croaks out, “I-”

 

“Please hold on Sebby,” his hair is being stroked now. Is Daniel doing that?

 

“I-” Why can’t he just say it? It’s important. “I love-” he’s interrupted by another round of hacking, his lungs refusing air. All that’s coming out is blood.

 

He misses the flowers.

 

Struck by sudden desperation, Sebastian climbs up to be eye to eye, mouth to mouth, with Daniel.

 

“Sebastian, I-”

 

Their mouths connect.

 

It’s like a breath of fresh air after living with infected lungs for so long. His hands find Daniel’s hips and he clings to him, desperate not to fall and break the kiss.

 

There’s blood dripping from his chin and tears leaking from his eyes. 

 

He is forced apart by an urge to cough.

 

When they’re no longer kissing, Sebastian is propping himself up with his wobbling hands, trying to breathe.

 

Blood and blooms erupt from him, with a scattering of yellow and red, until he’s clutching out the ground begging not to die.

 

Everything stops when an eruption of disgusting red liquid brings with it a bloodsoaked bulb.

 

His insides feel lighter than they’ve ever been. He can’t take his eyes off of the object.

 

“What- what the fuck?” His voice is unsteady, as are his arms.

 

There is silence.

 

Then everything goes black.

 

* * *

When he wakes he’s almost blinded. Gone is the artificial light of the tour bus. Now the light is coming from the open window from the yellow sun.

 

As he blinks his vision clear he spots Daniel napping in a chair, looking absolutely adorable. The bassist’s hand is resting on his own. This causes him to look up his arm and spot the IV stuck into it.

 

He’s in a hospital.

 

There’s movement in the corner of his eye. Daniel’s stirring.

 

“Morning,  _ Deaniel _ ,” he whispers out the stupid nickname.

 

“Morning to you two, Sebby,” Daniel sleepily murmurs back.

 

“Actually it's 12:30.”

 

Their heads simultaneously spin to the door where a female doctor is standing.

 

“Welcome back to the world of the living Mr Danzig. You gave us quite a scare there,” she steps toward the two, “I am Doctor Clair. I just need to take your vitals and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

 

Sebastian smiles softly up at her, “thanks.”

 

“No problem. It’s my job to help people,” she grins back.

 

After a quick check, the two are left alone in the hospital room once again.

 

“So…” Sebastian is unable to find the right thing to say.

 

“So…” Daniel repeats, “I guess I should explain.”

 

“Yeah you should,” he tries to chuckle but there’s a stinging pain in his lungs forcing his mouth shut.

 

“Oh yeah, you’re throat and lungs are gonna be messed up for a while,” Daniel giggles slightly.

 

Sebastian groans before a question enters his mind, “how am I still alive?”

 

“Maybe because I realised I liked you,” Daniel's face turns serious, “I thought I was gonna lose you forever. It made me face my feelings for you.”

 

“Well, I’m glad you did before it was too late or I wouldn’t be here,” Sebastian speaks softly.

 

“I’m glad too,” his beaming face is infectious, “hey Sebastian?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I love you,” the bassist takes his hand and kisses it.

 

“I love you too, you big sap,” Sebastian takes his hand back.

 

“Can I kiss you again? This time without the blood.”

 

Sebastian feels any traces left of the infection be washed away. 

 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comment what you guys think.


End file.
